


The Silent Role

by Stregatrek



Series: White Roses, For a Change [2]
Category: Phantom of the Opera (2004)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Implied Femslash, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 06:03:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stregatrek/pseuds/Stregatrek
Summary: There's one person who's always been there for Christine, no hidden motives.





	The Silent Role

The thought of finishing _Il Muto_ made Christine shake. They were pinning up her hair, straightening her costume, all in heavy silence. Madame Giry patted her shoulder, and she stepped on stage to muted applause. She tried to smile, but her face felt stiff. Still, when she opened her mouth, her voice was steady. In the role of the Countess, all eyes were on her, but Christine felt as though her own eyes could find nothing to light on. All the color, the flames of the stage lights, the people around her swirling together with the fear in her mind and the confusion in her heart. Somehow, she kept singing, as though her voice were its own entity. Maybe it was. After all, it made more sense that everyone would suddenly be in love with her voice than with her.  
__

_ _The words to _Il Muto_ and her intonation were perfect, the notes she had to hit coming easily even as her mind spun from Raoul to Carlotta to the Phantom to Joseph, even as her body spun through the motions of the opera- her voice soared on its own wings. Hers but not her. And she thought of the Phantom again, of the night, when he had taken her down the candlelit corridor to the underground lake and his boat, his bed. His face. God in Heaven, his _face_.   
_____ _

_ _ _Christine felt as though she’d been on the snowy roof alone, with no arms to keep her warm. Only eyes watching her. She shook, though her voice stayed steady. She wondered if her face showed any of her thoughts. She spun around the stage, looking for _him_ but she saw Piangi, the others in their powder and their wigs, Raoul in his box.  
___ _ _

_ _ _She felt hot, then. Lost. Overwhelmed. She kept singing, trying to focus. She couldn’t. The stage was too bright. The music was too loud, her costume was too tight. They hadn’t had time to put the monstrous, heavy wig on her. Thank God.  
_ _ _

_ _ _The music peaked, trilling, and Christine’s voice matched it. Clear and high. What was next? She couldn’t remember. How long had she been singing? She didn’t know that either. She couldn’t remember the script, her line. A hand took hers, and she started. The Phantom was back to hide her away, take her down where it was damp and dark and make her sing forever in a faux-gilded cage. Her heart seized as she turned, but it was Meg. Meg. Meg in the maids outfit, having stepped into the role of the Pageboy. The silent role. Her eyes met Christine’s, and the world stopped spinning. She drew a deep breath. Meg’s eyes were expressive, and right now they offered comfort. The audience was applauding, and Meg softly whispered, “Christine,”  
_ _ _

_ _ _The script was back. She knew what to do. She took another breath. Smiled.  
_ _ _

__ _ _Finished _Il Muto_. _  
And when they were converging on her after the show, her well-wishers, the Managers, the cast- with the exception of Piangi, who walked haughtily away to have his makeup removed- Meg stayed beside her. Holding her hand. Raoul promised to have the carriage ready, to be waiting when she was dressed for dinner. She nodded.  
__ _

_ _ _Meg took her to her dressing room. Meg sat with her, helped to unpin her hair, escape from the layers of the costume. Meg’s hands felt soft against her shoulders, gentle as they combed out her hair.  
_ _ _

_ _ _“Christine,” She said. Christine waited, but for a moment Meg was silent. Finally, she said, “You sang beautifully tonight.” There’re a thousand layers behind the sentence, and a million things come to Christine’s mind- Meg looking at her in awe after her first “lesson” with the Angel of Music, Meg finding her in the chapel. The Angel was there, the Angel who’d taught her to sing. And the man who wanted her to sing to fill his nights, forever.  
_ _ _

_ _ _But at the front, the first thing she thought, and the first thing she said, was; “I couldn’t have- without you.” Meg whispering to her in the dark, not a disembodied voice or a memory but real and there. There for her. “Without you, tonight. And…” Other times, other nights. “Without you to hold- hold my hand, and- to be there.”  
_ _ _

_ _ _“I’ll be here whenever you want me.” Meg promised in her sweet voice. She combed out one of Christine’s curls, pulling out a stray pin. Her hands were exceedingly gentle. Christine reached up to take one, pressing it in gratitude, and Meg lifted it to her mouth, placing a soft kiss on the inside of Christine’s wrist. “I’ll be with you whenever you need me.”  
_ _ _

_ _ _Christine turned to her, a smile beginning despite everything that had happened that night. “Meg,” She said, and stopped. What could she say? In the face of everything, with all that Meg did for her. With everything she felt for Meg. It confused her. “Thank you.”  
_ _ _

_ _ _Meg smiled, carding her fingers through Christine’s hair again. Irrationally, Christine wished Meg could come to dinner with her and Raoul. Meg’s small, warm hands were on her shoulders, her blonde hair coming loose from the plait it had been in for her role as the Pageboy. Looking at her in the mirror, Christine recalled flashes of the opera they had just performed together. Holding her hand, an instant where they could have kissed. On the stage, in front of all those people- it wouldn’t have been as themselves. The Countess and the Pageboy could have kissed. But Meg had kept a careful distance, her eyes on where her mother stood offstage, and then cut to Raoul in his box.  
_ _ _

_ _ _And the show had gone on.  
_ _ _


End file.
